The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1887-03-26

IS.
until the snow was gone and the grass was
beginning to take on q faint green hue under
the cold spring rains that Allie was able n
sit for part of the day in the old rocking.
char. The few dollars that Allie had
ex,ught to her mother the night before she
was taken sick, had been spent long aco
Nnghbors in the row had brought her what
thsy could spare Of their scanty living, and
the kind doctor had sent load of wood
Hr. Mason had been frequent visitor am
tl;ree times had left her five dollars, ''ssnt
her by O friend,' he said but Allie needed
medicine and nourishing food, and one day
Mrs Martin found she had but few cents
left in her purse, and there was only wood
enough to last one more day. A quick
glance around the little pantry showed
nothing but cup of milk for Allies supper
and little, very little. salt pork, no bread.
and no -four. think it was allowable for
Mrs Martin to feel little sad AS she
helped Allie up into the old rockingham
and tucked her carefully IN the old shawl.
/ Allie felt her mothers tears on her face.
Mother" she said, putting her arms
around her mothers neck. 81 know why
you cry It's because there's no money in
that old pruse Now, I'm better to-day,
and can stay alone, and you can go to Mrs
Greene's and get some Of that sewing. Can't
you, mother dearl"
''That's bright thought, Allie" said
Mr9 Martin, smiling. "I'll go this after
noon, if you will promise not to walk
around too much. Perhaps she will ad.
vance me little money, she is so kind.
| and can bring you an orange for your sup,
per-" 4
Allie smiled. and, after a. paasR ,s-sa
slowly; Don't you remember, mother
what told you long ago about the girl with
the pink roses who talked about Lent! It
| does seem to me as if we had been keeping
Lent her way. All our good times have
been spoilt. But l was just thinking tina
to-morrow's Easter Sunday and that's the
end of Lent and now I'm better, and you'll
| come home tonight with some money, anu
perhaps tomorrow morning we'll begin
to have better times, and good things to eat
| again, and be happy, as we usel to be. I
kind Of feel so, mother"
At the close of this long speech Mrs.
Martin kissed her ''little comforter" as she
called the child, and hurried to Mrs.
Greene's, only to find that sickness and
death had visited the elegant home, and
Mrs. Greene, with her remaining children,
had left town. Mrs Martin was disheart-
ened by this blow. She was but little
known in the great city, and there were 80
many as poor as she seeking work that her
chances seemed very small. As she walked
home through the wet streets Ter heart was
very heavy, and every breath vas prayer.
90, God show me what to do o, God |
give me food for my child' she repeated,
over and over again, as she climbed the
l
see bright light shining from under the
door. "Can Allie have hghtedthe candle"
she thought. 81 hope she hasn't been try
ing to walk much. She is not strong
enough" She opened the door, and stood
gazing with establishment on the scene be-
fore her.
The candle was burning brightly on the
window-sill, and the cracks In the stove
were doing their best to help light the small
room. Between them both it was fully
light enough for Mrs. Martin 10 see her lit
tie daughter standing by the table, looking
up at tall man, who stood with his back to
Mrs. Martin. Allies face was aglow with
happiness, and o merry laugh fell from her
lips just as Mrs. Martin opened the door.
The tall mans arms were full of bundles,
and by his side was basket that was as
full as could be Of more queer-shaped pack
ages.
Here's mother" Gord Allie ooh!
in 0' to have y0u s name 'qSnoul Re were go
Mrs Martin diG2 5uIsaaug she closed
the door, and tooiS ward right
into the arms of IT,. - who turned
to meet her, while a~Sa~4e bundles fell to
the floor.
"Johnl Johnlw
"Yes, Hattie, my wife" And then there
was little crying party of three all packed
into the big rocking chair, and they did not
seem to be in any great hurry for their tea
after all. How much there was to tell! 1t
was another John Martin" that was killed
on the train; but Allies father had been
very ill at the time; and when he was able
to travel he reached his home only to find
his wife and child gone. He traced them
to the city where his aunt had lived; but
there all clew ended, and the past three
| years had been spent in fruitless search.
| That night he had been directed to Ferris
row by Mr.. Mason, and had soon convinced
Allie that he was her town papa" She
had told him their history and ended with
the information that there was only just
enough pork for their supper, and he must
| 80 OuO a VI DItdu DSiOIC
mother got back. He was gone some time
and had just returned when Mrs. Martin
reached home.
''Now, mother, didn't tell you believed
| our Lent was over! And to think to-mor
row is Easter!" cried Allie, suddenly. from
| somewhere in the big rockingham.
| Pm sure you can imagine the rest; how,
after awhile, Mrs. Martin was able to stop
laughing and crying, and made such fire
in the old stove as it had not seen for
months; how Allie undid the packages, and
screamed with delight at the treasures that
were brought to view, and, how a little
later, the table was spread with supper
the like of which Allie and her mother had
not tasted in years; and then the happy
evening that was spent by those three in
that diugy little room, and the plans that
were made for the future, and that we will
| trust were all carried out | do not know
| that they were; but | do know that, the
next summer, when the pink rose was bud
ding over a certain little porch in a pretty
Western town, "a little girl stood on a chail
in front OF it, diligently counting the buds
to find, il she could, just how many pinl
roses there would be in few weeks, and
although she is dressed in pretty clothe.
and has rosy cheeks, she looks so much lilr,
Allie Martin, OF Ferris row, that / really
| ha1iaVa II 10 oh N Perkins in,